


Psyche-Soma

by Fudgyokra



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, Kinda, M/M, Multi, No warnings but deals with touchy subjects, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychoanalysis, Psychological Warfare, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Sharing, Some Humor, Some Plot, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: Bruce clenched his fists when he saw the flat side of the blade press against Dick’s crotch. “What /is/ the Batman’s worst fear?”





	Psyche-Soma

**Author's Note:**

> This is one-third plot, two-thirds porn. It was my best excuse to finally write a good old-fashioned cliché about basically being in heat. To all the people who follow me for BatJokes: Sorry for this interlude, lol. My Tumblr (@braingray) is always there to sate all your BatJokes needs. :)

Jonathan Crane did not need fear toxins to make Bruce’s nightmares come to life.

He didn’t recall the exact moment when the terror truly sunk in. It could have been when he saw Tim and Damian bound, back to back, lying unconscious in a puddle of gasoline. It could’ve been after seeing Jason panting in the oxygen deprivation tank, banging battered fists into the glass until there were streaks of blood left behind. It might have been after laying eyes on Barbara, who shrank into the corner of her cage, quivering hands shielding her face from some invisible creature as she weathered through one of Crane’s experiments.

“I’ve thought of a million ways I could destroy you, Batman,” Jon’s televised face said with a terrible grin. “A million ways, all beginning with your precious protégés.”

In Crane’s arms, with a knife to his throat, was Dick, bleary-eyed and bleeding from a cut on his lip. Behind his back, his arms were tied from shoulder to wrist, making him easy to hold still, not that he seemed to be keen on moving. “The golden boy here is my favorite,” Jon went on almost affectionately, wiggling the knife in the man’s face. Dick looked on lethargically with his lips parted, as if he couldn’t be bothered to muster even a frown. “Gaseous weapons are the best to work with. Take the girl, for example: A dose of my fear toxin—which I’ve improved, I’ll have you know—and she’s out of commission. I give her ten minutes before she claws her own eyes out.

“And that rat with the helmet is so full of hot air, I thought I might take some of it away.” With a tsk-ing sound, Jon shook his head. “The ones in the ropes, well, they were just plain obnoxious. Very fiery personalities, those two.” He chuckled privately, then explained, “A fiery death would only be appropriate. They’ve been unconscious for an hour, but the moment they awaken, the timer begins. When that timer runs out, the match drops.”

“What do you want?” Bruce growled, watching with a twist in his gut at the way Dick’s head lolled back submissively against Jon’s shoulder.

“That’s easy,” Jon said, sliding the tip of the knife down Dick’s chest. “I want to watch you suffer.” Bruce clenched his fists when he saw the flat side of the blade press against Dick’s crotch. “What _is_ the Batman’s worst fear?” There was a strange and sinister fire ignited in his eyes as he moved lower, massaging his fingers into the area and drawing a grunt from Dick.

Bruce bared his teeth. “What did you do to him?”

“Aphrodisiacs and chloroform,” Jon answered like it was obvious. “Made him nice and complacent.”

Bruce assumed his offensive stance out of sheer impulse, energy rippling through every muscle, putting in him the desire to hit and break. “You better not have put a goddamned hand on him.”

Jon laughed once and laid down the final straw with the words, “Not _yet_.”

“Where are you?” Bruce cried out, chucking a batarang at one of the speakers and blowing it out with a loud crackling sound. He had to remind himself not to ruminate on his rage quite yet.

“So, this is what tipped you over, eh?” Jon asked, letting his knife clatter to the floor before settling both hands on Dick’s hips. “Don’t know what the fuss is all about. These brats probably all grew up touching each other anyway: a by-product of their pseudo-daddy’s lack of attention, no doubt.”

Bruce’s pupils shrank. “How did you—”

“This one told me,” Jon interrupted gleefully, leaning forward so that his face was closer to the camera. “There’s a lot of deep-rooted issues with you and your little bats, and I’m beginning to like investigating.” Pointedly, he grabbed a handful of Dick’s crotch, making him squirm uselessly against his restraints.

Bruce was seeing red. He took off in a sprint across the warehouse and slid to a halt in front of Jason, who was looking at him with half-lidded eyes and a clenched jaw, his chest rising and falling in shuddering, struggling breaths. It was immediately obvious that the door would not budge if he pried, so he sprayed dissolving gel onto the glass instead, watching it bubble and squeal as it burned through, until the tiniest hole formed in the barrier and Jason gasped in a lungful of air.

By the time he’d won this victory, though, Bruce heard Tim’s disoriented voice from across the way, followed by a mechanical beep, and then the daunting echo of a clock ticking.

“Guess who’s awake?” Jon taunted. Bruce wasn’t looking at the screen anymore; there was no time.

Past the panicked slurring of Tim, which woke Damian into a frenzy of loud swears and threats, Bruce could hear Jason kicking at his glass prison, and Barbara’s voice muttering to herself in a panic.

The television went dark, but Bruce could still hear the feedback from the speakers. “Tic toc, Batman.”

Barbara was screaming now, swiping at her face and kicking at nothing. Tim and Damian were wrenching uselessly against the floor in an attempt to struggle away, but the flame had steadily progressed along the rope toward the gasoline until it was just inches away. Then, just as Jason managed to kick one leg through the glass, Bruce heard Dick make a tellingly choked sound over the speaker.

He wondered what it would be like to kill Scarecrow. It was only a split-second thought, but it crossed his mind nonetheless. He knew he could do it—he could put his hands around the bastard’s throat and _squeeze_.

With an enraged cry, he bolted for Tim and Damian, scooping them up and rolling away from the inferno that blazed just a moment after his escape. Without so much as a breath, he went for Barbara next, who was wailing in agony while she raked red lines over her face with her nails.

It took four kicks to the padlock for Bruce to be able to break it. The panic made him fumble for the cure to the toxin for too many precious seconds. She had already scraped a nasty gash underneath her eye when he administered it with a quick push and watched her fall back against the bars in a gasping heap.

On the other end of the room, Tim and Damian were shouting that their rope had caught fire.

“Oh, no,” Jon tutted over the speaker system. His voice made Bruce’s blood boil. “One’s scarred herself and those two are on their quick descent to hell. Golden Boy, though…he seems fine to me. Wanna talk to him?”

Bruce’s nostrils flared when Dick’s face appeared on the screen, flushed pink, with pupils dilated and mouth agape. “Batman,” he all but panted, poised to say something else before Jon turned the camera back off and interrupted him.

“You know, there’s a lot to be said for fear,” he said, “but a lot more to be said for lust.”

“When I get my hands on you—” Bruce growled low in his throat and stomped out the fire on Tim and Damian’s rope before he faced the television again.

“Color me interested: Does it _scare_ you for your little ones to know about you and him?”

From the oxygen deprivation tank, Jason stopped kicking and jerked his head toward Bruce, who only scowled at the screen instead of acknowledging the look.

“Father?” Damian hissed. “What is he talking about?”

Tim, who was facing him from where the two of them lay on the floor, regarded him with wide eyes, mouth an ‘o,’ and brows drawn together.

“You didn’t know?” Jon said with a pleased hum that just barely overrode Dick’s slurred defense. “Daddy touches his eldest son, ladies and gentlemen.”

“It isn’t like that,” Bruce said just a tic too quickly.

“What, that you aren’t sleeping with him? Or that he’s not your son? Because one of those is definitely untrue!”

“I didn’t m—” Dick warbled. Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by a loud smacking sound and a wounded cry, at which Jon chuckled and Bruce bristled.

“Father,” Damian started again, voice poisonous, “he had better be _lying_.”

“Batman?” Barbara asked, drawing her arms around her chest in a protective way that made Bruce’s heart ache. “He’s lying, right? You wouldn’t—”

“You wouldn’t fuckin’ dare, right?” Jason finished for her, eyes narrowed to slits and palm pressed to the glass.

“I’m not saying Golden Boy here didn’t _want_ it,” Jon said with a snort, “but that isn’t saying much, for how easily he puts out.”

“Shut up!” Bruce shouted, scanning the area for a door of any kind. There was only one, and it was nestled in the back, underneath the stairs, which he could see only led to a lookout over the room they were already in. With determination, he tried the knob and, upon finding it was locked, kicked it down with a grunt of exertion.

“Nightwing,” Jason said, resuming his escape attempt, “I think we need to have a talk.”

“That sounds suspiciously like jealousy, Hood,” Jon cooed in his cruel mockery. “What is _your_ worst fear, hm? Being abandoned? Losing someone close to you?”

“Fuck _off!_ ” Jason hollered. With a practiced shot, he managed to break a sizable hole in the containment unit.

“Perhaps it’s living with the knowledge that your romantic ideations have been callously rebuffed?”

Suddenly, the speakers went dead.

“Found you,” Bruce said, voice deep and dangerous. “Time’s up, Scarecrow.”

Jon’s eyes went wide from where he sat, perched atop a rickety pair of stacked mattresses with Dick in his grasp. Within seconds, however, he had the knife to Dick’s throat again, sporting an amused smile when Bruce bared his teeth at the slashes already striping the man’s bare chest.

He looked from the alarmingly red bite mark on his neck to the tear in the thigh of his uniform, then back to Jon. “One move,” the latter said, “and it’s all over for him.”

Bruce did not waste time mincing words. His batarang hit Jon’s wrist, drawing an alarmed shout from the man and making him drop his knife. In the process, he’d inadvertently shoved Dick forward, where he hit the floor face-first, straining against the ropes that bound his thighs to his calves.

Bruce’s knees hit the ground next to him, and when he rolled him over he saw Dick frowning up at him, nose bleeding and one eye squeezed close. “I’m sorry,” he ground out with a wince, “apparently chloroform makes you say a little more than you meant to.”

“Forget the apology,” Bruce said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Dick offered a sideways smile. “Scarecrow would never actually do anything like what he said.”

“You don’t think?” Jon asked, on his feet again and aiming a strange-looking weapon loaded with a vial of his toxin at them. “Maybe next time I’ll surprise you, prettyboy.”

“Get fucked,” Dick spat.

“Your words,” Jon said with nothing short of a cackle, just before unleashing an observable puff of gas at them.

Bruce dodged the cloud and tackled the man to the ground, getting one hard punch to the jaw before Dick was muttering a mantra of “ _shit, shit, shit_ ” behind him. His split second of hesitation at the sound was enough to let Jon slink out from underneath him and run for it. He took a step like he meant to follow, but Dick’s labored breathing made him stay. _Next time,_ he thought, _Scarecrow might have more than a few broken bones._

“Nightwing,” he said, voice deathly serious. “I’m gonna get you home. I have more antidote in the cave.”

“Batman, it—” Dick started, only to be cut off by the approach of heavy, intimidating footsteps.

Jason stood there with his arms crossed, glowering down at them. He had visible cuts and contusions of all sorts from where he’d slipped through the jagged hole in the tank. Behind him stood a concerned Barbara, and behind her were Tim and Damian, still held together by the rope, looking blank and angry, respectively.

“I can explain,” Dick sighed more than spoke.

“Save that for later,” Bruce mumbled, slicing his bonds with a knife and going for Tim and Damian next.

The moment they were free, Damian smacked him in the arm. It didn’t do a bit of damage, but he crossed his arms and huffed afterward because he knew he’d made his point. “Disgusting!” he added anyway, obviously too busy seething to say more.

Tim and Barbara exchanged nervous glances. Dick tried not to look any of them in the eye.

“We’re going home,” Bruce said, defeated and tired. “You can dog me then.”

“Oh, I will,” Damian promised, just before he turned on his heel and walked out, tentatively tailed by Barbara and Tim.

Dick, despite his best efforts, had found himself engaged in a heated stare with Jason when Bruce looked back at them. “Boys,” he started, only for the elder of them to suck in a sudden, sharp breath. It was enough to startle both him and Jason out of their funk, and they both approached him with arms outstretched.

“Bad,” Dick said, and screwed his eyes closed.

“Damian!” Bruce called. “Get the fear toxin antidote from the cave and bring it back. Barbara, you drive.”

“Okay,” he heard Barbara say, at the same time Damian threw a curse his way.

“Jason, go with them. I need to stay here while Dick fights off the nightmares.”

“Leave him here with you?” Jason asked with a scowl. “Alone?”

Bruce’s voice leveled into something more dangerous than anger. “Jason…”

“I’m staying.”

Bruce’s patience had worn thin. “Fine,” he snapped, “I’ll go let Alfred know to be on the lookout.” Presently, he vacated the room, listening to the car’s engine revving and speeding away on top of Jason and Dick’s muted bickering. Annoyed, he put Alfred on the line.

“Sir?” the butler answered. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” he said, then paused. “Relatively.”

“What, may I ask, is the problem?”

“Dami, Tim, and Babs are on their way back to pick up something for me. Be ready.”

“Noted, sir.”

With a hum of thanks, Bruce hung up. When he turned, he took a single long stride, which led him smack into an alarmed-looking Jason. “Bruce,” the latter said, forgetting for a moment that they were still technically in public and calling him by name, “we’ve got a problem.”

He pushed past him and into the back room again to see Dick sitting on the edge of the two dusty mattresses, with his fists clenched on either side of him so hard that his knuckles were white. “Hah—ah, that toxin,” he started, voice breathy, “it’s, uh—it’s not the fear toxin.”

Bruce felt a hundred alarm bells go off in his head. Perhaps more forcefully than he’d meant to, he asked, “What do you mean?”

Jason rejoined them and bit worriedly at his nails. “It’s Ivy’s…stuff.”

“‘Stuff,’” Dick echoed with a weak laugh. His fingers curled and uncurled from the mattress with such ferocity that Bruce feared he might cramp his hand. “The pollen.”

“The bad one,” Jason supplied.

“There isn’t a _good_ one,” Dick said, voice becoming waterier with every passing second.

Bruce dreaded the question he had to ask. “Which one, exactly?”

“The, err—the hormone one,” Dick answered, turning red up to his ears.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jason snapped, turning to face him, “the _sex_ one, Bruce. The one that fucks your shit up and makes you wanna _breed_ all the time. Use your goddamned head!”

Bruce couldn’t find the will to respond to Jason’s outburst, but the latter began pacing soon after that, anyway.

Dick sighed. “What awful timing.”

Jason barked a sarcastic laugh. “You’re telling me!”

“Jay, I told you, I—”

“Yeah, you told me all about how we were never ‘official,’ or whatever. I’ve had an earful.”

Bruce looked accusingly at Dick, who held his hands up in defense. “It was before us. Before we…” He licked his lips, whether out of nervousness or something else, Bruce couldn’t be sure.

“Before you two decided to start humping behind my back,” Jason explained with a terse smile, as if Bruce needed to hear it.

“It wasn’t behind your back,” Bruce said, trying to maintain his calm. “I didn’t know that you… It’s not any of your business, anyway.”

“My business, he says,” Jason muttered to himself, flapping a hand in the air and then crossing his arms over his chest.

Before Bruce could say anything further, it came to his attention that Dick was tilting his hips in the air now, eyes closed tightly in concentration. It was enough to draw Jason’s attention too, well past the point when Bruce made himself look away.

Despite the situation, Jason had the gall to joke. “Having trouble?”

Dick mumbled something vaguely insulting, then raised his voice to ask a question. “Um, how long is the drive back to the cave, again?”

“Like, an hour, round trip,” Jason answered, his teasing smile fading into a pitying grimace.

“Did you want us to, err, give you some privacy?” Bruce asked, frowning at the way it sounded aloud.

“No, I want…” Dick started, drawing his knees together and turning his face away. “I _want_ ,” he finished, as though this explained anything.

Apparently to Jason, it did. “You’re kidding. Here?” he asked, voice half a growl in spite of the flush across his face. “Can’t you wait? Daddy dearest over here can take care of it when you get back.”

Bruce grunted. “I don’t appreciate the tone or the nickname.”

“Sorry, dad!” Jason replied, all tight-lipped smiles and faux cheeriness. “What’re you gonna do? Ground me? Spank me?”

Bruce opened his mouth to say something that was overridden by Dick’s tortured mewl. “Guys, this is _not_ helping,” he complained. The temperature in the room suddenly seemed to rise. Jason and Bruce looked in opposite directions, on which Dick commented without humor. “I’m serious. I could use some help here.”

Jason shot him a disbelieving look while Bruce adamantly ignored the request and said, “They’ll be back soon enough. If you don’t think about it, it’ll go away.” Even as the words came out, he knew it was a lie. Still, the other two shot him weary looks as if he didn’t already know.

“C’mon, guys, please,” Dick panted, arching suggestively against the mattress. “It’s starting to hurt.”

“We have to help him somehow, don’t we?” Jason asked tentatively, casting a worried look at a flustered Bruce.

“We can’t. I don’t—”

“I want _something_. Anything, please.”

Unsure, Jason looked first at Bruce, then at Dick, who stared right back with pupils blown and tongue lolling.

After a tense pause, Jason managed to ask, “Who?” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Bruce closed his eyes. It surprised them to hear Dick ground out a weak, needy, “ _Both_.”

For a minute, they didn’t move. It was only when Dick flattened out against the mattress and threw his head back that they walked toward him, practically in sync. “Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

At the same time, Jason mumbled, “This is weird.”

“Yes. Don’t care,” Dick said, maneuvering a hand down the front of his pants to relieve some of the pressure. Immediately upon contact, he let out a keening sound that turned the other two red in the face. “Fuck, guys,” he muttered, already grinding upward into his hand. “Hurry _up_.”

Jason was bone-white, looking at Bruce like a lost puppy. “Well you—you’re the one—you first!” he demanded, fidgeting in a nervous way Bruce had never seen from him before.

“I’m not thrilled about having an audience,” he said, even though he was already moving to Dick’s side and pressing an assuring kiss against his temple. “How do you feel?”

“Hot,” Dick said, turning his face to catch Bruce by the mouth. It startled the latter how much force was in the other man’s grip when he brought a hand to his jaw to hold him in place. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the level of strength Dick possessed, rather that he’d never used it against him quite like this.

Jason blew his bangs out of his face and crawled onto the mattress after Bruce, knocking him aside. “You’re such a try-hard,” he muttered, ignoring his burning face and straddling Dick, bending over to capture his face in both hands and kiss him. He seemed delighted in the way Dick reciprocated instantly by wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling himself closer.

“ _Yes_ ,” he sighed pleasantly, as Jason moved down to nip at his neck.

Bruce licked his lips. “I get the picture, Jay.”

“Yeah?” Jason said, fairly intent on staying put. “Better move fast before I have all the fun, then.”

Bruce didn’t really want to play Jason’s game, but he wasn’t going to let him have Dick all to himself, either. Irritated, he grabbed Jason’s chin and jerked it toward his own face, ignoring the voices that yelled at him not to and throwing everything out the window to kiss him, deep and dirty, show him who was boss.

Jason was clawing him closer within seconds, like he’d been waiting a million years for it. Dick was halfway out of his pants with his erection in his fist by the time the two of them parted, Jason with wide eyes and Bruce feeling a churning mix of regret and arousal.

Though difficult to maneuver the strange thickness of the air, they didn’t stop trying. It started slowly, with Jason’s teeth nipping at Bruce’s throat, and Bruce reaching out with one hand to massage Dick’s thigh and the other to hold Jason’s hip.

Dick, disregarding all prior embarrassments, was content to revel in the way the other two were locked in a heated stare, touching himself all the while and grunting incomprehensible things against the mattress.

Things spiraled out of control from there, until the four walls saw Bruce bucking into the afflicted man’s mouth and Jason pushing his thighs back against his chest, fucking him into an oblivion that had Dick crying out, echoing through the warehouse in an embarrassingly loud manner.

It became something of a competition. Bruce pushed Jason aside to take the wheel and pressed his fingers in where Jason occupied previously, making Dick fuck himself down on them, desperate for the sensation of being filled. Jason, meanwhile, bit playfully at Dick’s lips, winding his fingers in his hair and yanking in a way that made him expose his throat, a white column for Jason latch onto with lips and teeth and tongue.

Dick was nearly a sobbing mess when he came with the stimulation of just two fingers and Jason’s mouth on his. Bruce couldn’t help but smile in appreciation at the red-faced man lying sprawled on the mattress, mouth open and chest heaving, while Jason, worrying his own lip and palming himself in the open, looked at him with hazy eyes.

When Jason and Bruce came together in a clash of wandering hands and competing mouths, Dick did not seem to mind.

“I have a confession,” Jason admitted moments later, when Bruce was buried to the hilt inside of him and pumping him in tandem with his thrusts, “I wasn’t— _fuck_ —just upset about Dick, but that it was _you_.” He sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t imagine you with him. I mean, I wanted you too, and it hurt to know… I don’t know.” He scowled, but Bruce got the message. He didn’t think this would make up for it, but he supposed it was a good start.

“Guys,” Dick whined, having worked himself to full-mast again, “Need help.”

The request did not go ignored. Jason opened his mouth as if on command, and Bruce beckoned him over like his authority overrode Jason’s on the matter.

Dick waited patiently while Bruce adjusted Jason so he was on his knees, then bucked into the younger man’s mouth, open and inviting, while Bruce moved his hips against him from behind until a muffled groan told him he’d hit the spot.

“I never would’ve guessed you were this type of dirty,” Dick commented. His mouth curled into a grin. “Jay, if you’d said something earlier, this might have gone a lot smoother.”

Jason’s eyes fluttered, mouth and ass being worked open in a way that rendered him mute. Bruce took the heat of the comment himself with a flushed face and a scowl. “I tried not to,” he said, an admittance of large proportions. “I tried to stay away from both of you.”

“We’re all adults here,” Dick argued, gripping Jason’s hair hard and coming unexpectedly into his throat with a shuddering moan. Bruce captured his lips from across Jason’s arched body, drinking in the way the other panted with want, even after he’d released. The pressure had never abated, and he came to realize that no amount of meddling could satisfy the poor man.

Bruce pulled out just before Dick did, lost in the crossroads of thought.

Jason sat down to cough and splutter for a moment Still, he gestured for Dick to come closer. “Come on,” he encouraged, “I can keep going.”

Dick mounted him, but Jason had other ideas “No, no,” he breathed, wiggling his hips upward, “Fuck me. It’s all right.”

With a smile, Dick lifted the other onto his lap and buried his cock up to the base in one movement, watching Jason squirm. “Not so _fast_ ,” he groaned, thighs shuddering.

Bruce couldn’t move for a second. Instead, he watched Dick force himself in deep, breaths coming out in ragged pants as Jason cried out, toes curling. “Oh, Grayson,” he huffed, hands flattening on the mattress behind him so he could ride him harder. “I needed this.”

Dick looked back at Bruce hungrily, grin obvious. “I want you,” he said, tipping Jason onto his back as he bent over with obvious intent.

Trying his best to ignore the lewd nature of it all, Bruce got on his knees behind Dick and began pushing in, slowly to ensure that everything was comfortable, but apparently too slowly for Dick, who rocked his hips back onto him with abandon, moaning out his name as Jason came, splattering across Dick’s chest with a gasp.

Dick kept moving, though, riling him up with overstimulation and making him salivate at the way he kept on as if Jason were a toy, while Bruce took him from behind.

“God, _God,_ ” Jason moaned, letting Dick spill into him like he owned him. “ _Fuck_.”

Bruce pulled out to finish himself on Dick’s back, but the latter was quick to turn and wrap his mouth around him, taking the brunt of his release into his mouth and swallowing it down in a way that had Bruce rolling his eyes back into his skull.

The three of them sat there for a while in breathless captivation, Jason and Bruce spent, while tears pricked at Dick’s eyes when he realized he couldn’t enjoy the same comfort. They exchanged glances, and Dick muttered something against his palm as his hips canted upward, his cock still swollen and hard, unable to reach a release hard enough for the pollen’s liking.

“What are we gonna do?” Jason asked, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t keep doing this. How much longer ‘til Damian and the rest come back?”

“Probably a while,” Bruce answered, licking his dry lips. “Dick, are you all right?”

“’M’fine,” Dick all but breathed, eyes screwed closed again.

Jason got to his wobbly knees, licking his palm and grabbing Dick with a tightness that had the other hissing. “Fine?” he asked, brain half working.

Dick curved his spine into the other’s touch. “Perfect.”

Bruce sat back and watched Jason jerk him, until finally Dick pushed his hand away and moved to swallow his cock, making Jason bite back a wounded moan at the sensitivity. “Jesus,” he said, wiping his mouth, “I don’t think I— _a-ahh_.” He bucked forward involuntarily when Dick deep-throated him.

He tried to speak around him, but all that came out was gibberish, accented by a stream of saliva leaking out of his mouth. Bruce bit his lip and caught his gaze, on fire and wanting as if he’d never had release.

Jason was barely keeping together, holding Dick by the back of the neck and driving into his mouth, fucking his throat until he came with tears springing to his eyes. “No more,” he said, breathing in short huffs now. “I can’t.”

The ride did a hell of a workout on him, Bruce admitted, but the rest he’d gotten halfway made up for it. His turn, then, he guessed. Jason was obviously out of commission. Or, well, he was supposed to be; Dick did not seem to have the same sentiment. He was on him like a leech, hands cupping his ass and mouth working him like he couldn’t be bothered to care. Jason, over-sensitive and desperate, was making sounds Bruce had never heard him make before—cloaked in defeat, whiny and high-pitched, _begging_ Dick to let him free. “I can’t,” he began, eyes watering, “Dick, god, I can’t take it.”

The pollen had overrun Dick’s brain by this point, though, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to see Jason beg, jerking his hips forward like he depended on him for release.

Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Let him be for now,” he instructed. Dick obeyed dutifully and sat back on his calves. “Good,” he praised, watching Dick’s pupils shrink and grow at the compliment. So, that’s how he wanted it. Unprepared for this type of situation, Bruce swallowed hard first, then attempted to sate the other’s wishes. “All right. On your hands and knees. Mouth on me, now.”

Dick obliged, hungrily lapping at him in a way that made him close his eyes and take a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay, okay.” He had to force himself into Dick’s throat for the other to color in his cheeks, but even this did not stop his intent. What did it take to make him satisfied, even if it was only for a few seconds? With a regretful tinge in his bones, Bruce acknowledged and birthed the thought in his brain. “Ah, haah—Okay, Dick, where should Daddy come?”

Dick reacted immediately; his irises nearly eclipsed his pupils, and a quick glance to the side had him observing that Jason’s did much of the same. Dick gurgled uselessly around his length, bringing a smile to Bruce’s face. “Jason,” he said, feeling on top of the world, “what do you say?”

“On his face,” Jason answered, observing them with interest.

“Yeah?” Bruce breathed, pulling out and making Dick moan at the loss. “All right, open wide for Daddy.”

Dick did as he was told, parting swollen lips and sticking his tongue out for good measure. He hungrily accepted Bruce’s cum, looking up at him with starry eyes as if he could do no wrong.

“Are you all right?” Bruce asked at length, sitting back with a sigh of weariness.

Dick flushed. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

Although unsure of how he could keep going, Jason took his turn as necessary. “All right, baby,” he crooned, grabbing Dick’s face, “tell me what you want.” Dick was practically drooling on himself as he grabbed clumsily at Jason’s cock, the desperation in the act making a thrill run along Bruce’s spine. “How about this?” Jason continued, voice saccharine sweet as he pushed Dick onto his back and grabbed his thigh, “Brother will eat you out, nice and slow, and you can tell Daddy what you want him to do to your cock.”

Dick mumbled something that wasn’t at all intelligible, and Bruce colored at the implication.

Jason tossed an impish smile at him, then lowered himself to Dick’s abused hole, flattening his tongue against him and taking in the way he wiggled against his face, needy and heated.

“Ah—ah, Jason,” Dick mumbled, eyes screwing shut. “I— _fuck._ ”

It was with dignified grace that Bruce removed his glove and knelt over him, smearing his palm with the precum still beading insistently on his tip before gently teasing his hand along the length. He moved closer, as if to kiss him, but left their mouths a hair’s width apart instead and began working his hand with a firm grip. Satisfaction coursed through him when Dick released a shivery whine at the contact.

Not long after that, they had completely spent themselves and, as if on a weirdly knowledgeable cue, the door at the front of the warehouse swung open with a creak. Moments later, Damian’s voice rose from the entryway to the back room. “Antidote times two,” he said as he came into view, “just in case.” He stopped short, expression withering, when he caught them mid-dress, all except for Dick, who only drew his legs in to scarcely cover himself. “Guess I should’ve brought three,” he muttered, chucking them at Bruce and then fleeing the scene.

“Damian,” Bruce began, but Jason grabbed him by the arm.

“More important,” he reminded him, jerking his thumb back toward Dick.

“Right,” he agreed. The antidote was administered without comment, and Dick sighed in relief as his tense muscles released, allowing him to relax back against the mattress. Relaxation wasn’t a long-lived accomplishment, however, as shame was the next thing to dawn on him as he sheepishly pawed around for his pants and tugged them on while the other two avoided looking at him or at each other.

“I’m, uhh, sorry about that,” Dick said at length, clearing his throat as punctuation.

“It’s fine,” Jason said with a snort. “I think it was kinda therapeutic, wouldn’t you say, Batman?”

Bruce frowned. “Something like that.”

Despite himself, Dick grinned. “That’s a funny way to put it. ‘Therapeutic.’’”

“Well, whatever you’d call it, we’re gonna get an earful from you-know-who,” Jason said, peering over Bruce’s shoulder at Damian, who was still visible from where he stood at the far end of the main room.

Bruce readjusted his cowl. “I’m sure he isn’t the only one,” he said, “but we’ve got to go home eventually, so.”

“So,” Dick parroted, looking uneasily at Jason, who looked more pleased with himself than he had any right to be.

“Guess we’d better start that journey,” the latter offered, slinging an arm around Bruce’s waist. “Or shouldn’t we, Daddy dearest?”

Bruce’s lip twitched; Dick laughed and joined his other side, propping his elbow on the man’s shoulder and looking at him with a pretty smile. “Should we tell him he’s adopted?” he asked, prompting Bruce to leave and Jason to complain childishly at him. They arrived at the Batmobile last, still bickering, and climbed into the back where Barbara usually sat, but had notably traded places with Damian, since he refused to sit in his usual passenger seat.

The eldest two ceased their arguing immediately and endured the ride back to the cave in silence, which ended with Damian facing them, hands on his hips, and saying, “You two had better shower before dinner. You smell disgusting.” With that, he left.

Jason wiggled his eyebrows at Dick. “He’s still willing to show up to dinner. I think that’s a good sign.”

Dick chuckled. “I think you’re right.”


End file.
